


The Dragon's Pact

by numbah34



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Fantasy setting, Magic AU, PPG Challenge Hub, Stars aligning and all that jazz, and Sorceresses, and life-altering contracts, and possibly a rescue?, but i don't do angst without a happy ending, involving Dragons, of the self-blame variety, there's gonna be some angst in this one, under the stars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbah34/pseuds/numbah34
Summary: A note for sorcerers: The rules for making a pact with a dragon are quite simple, really: approach respectfully; be polite; be impressed- but not *too* impressed; maintain your decorum and adhere to the cordiality of this centuries-old ritual. Remain as mysterious as possible, and do not reveal your name until you propose a pact. Warning: failure to adhere to customs may result in being eaten.A note for dragons: The rules for making a pact with a sorcerer must be followed to maintain the dignity, mystique, and grandeur synonymous with our ilk. Wait to be approached, keep an air of stately aloofness, perform a display that only boasts your best qualifications, but do NOT show off too much! Names should not be exchanged until a pact is proposed. Warning: failure to follow traditions may result in being irredeemably cursed.Follow these rules, and you will achieve a suitable and enriching partnership!
Relationships: Boomer/Bubbles Utonium, Brick/Blossom Utonium, Butch/Buttercup Utonium
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59
Collections: PPG Challenge Hub





	1. Part One: A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "Things you said under the stars" from the PPG Challenge Hub.
> 
> My first PPG fic! This was going to be a one-shot... until it spiraled out of control, and now it's stretched into a 3-part (or possibly 4-part) story. XD
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 1: A Promise

They had been anticipating this evening for months. Watching the skies, waiting for the telltale signs; once a year the stars Bala’ur and Vre’jitor would align in the night sky, but it was never an exact science to tell when that would happen. No, instead, the only clue lay in approximating when the next pass would happen based off the one previous. It would be far too convenient for anyone to be able to say “in the third month on the seventh day these particular stars will align, perfectly in harmony, thereby allowing for one of the most sacred of magical ceremonies to take place.” Clearly, marking the exact date on a calendar would be too mundane; it took studious planning and observation, memorizing the stars and being able to pick the two in question out of a veritable cloud of shiny, blinking dots scattered across the inky blackness of the night sky. Truly a daunting task for most sorcerers.

But the two who trudged quietly toward the Dragons’ Enclave were not “most sorcerers.”

One sister held a grim, determined set to her jaw, while the other kept a cool expression, occasionally taking her eyes off their path to look calculatingly at the night sky. Both held the unspoken hope, nay, resolve to accomplish their objective this night; if they could do so, they would be well on their way to succeeding in their mission; a mission of life-or-death stakes.

Despite their best attempts at remaining calm and collected, the low rumble of a growl coming from close by had both sisters reflexively reaching up and pulling their hoods down further, melding into the shadowy pathway as much as they could. While they knew that most dragons would want to enter a pact with a sorcerer, they also knew that there were more than likely a few that saw no appeal to dealing with people further than “inviting” them to be dinner. The thought sent an involuntary shudder through the younger sister. She wouldn’t go down without a fight, but she would still rather not encounter a hostile beast this night.

A few more steps and the older sister put her arm out to stop her sister as she also came to a silent halt. She scanned their surroundings, finally nodding toward an area of the woods just a shade darker in the murk of the evening. Finding one’s way to a dragon through the various semi-hidden dens and caves in the Enclave was yet another challenge. They carefully made their approach.

Drawing nearer, the forest opened up onto a small clearing where the girls could see a large den. At first worried that they had found the den of a much larger, more mature dragon (perhaps as big as their father’s own dragon partner), they almost missed the outline of not one, but two massive shapes languidly draped across the rocky soil in front of the den. Ah… a family settlement. That could explain the cave size.

The dragons seemed to be grumbling at each other, as the same deep, guttural sounds the girls had heard on their trek continued as they drew closer. The dragons did not seem to notice their approach, or if they did, they paid it no special consideration. The sisters gave each other a look; this was it. The moment for which they had been preparing themselves.

They had studied all the traditions and etiquette involved in making a Dragon Pact, had listened intently to the advice of their father and his dragon in learning what to expect in the interactions between a sorcerer or sorceress and dragon yet unbound. Still a respectful distance away, the sisters summoned glowing orbs, the first of the many formalities to observe in the tradition of the Dragon’s Pact, meant to draw a dragon’s attention and alert them to a sorcerer approaching. They stopped about 20 feet from the two reclining dragons, waiting for them to acknowledge their arrival, holding their orbs aloft to shed further light on the clearing.

The dragons paused momentarily in their grumblings as the soft light of the orbs fell upon them. They, like all young dragons, had grown up being taught the customs, graces, and etiquette of the Dragon’s Pact by the elder dragons. Adhering to tradition meant presenting and maintaining the dignity, mystique, and grandeur for which their kind was known. Upon the approach of a sorcerer or sorceress, a dragon was expected to draw themselves up to a stately posture, and acknowledge the visitor with an air of cool aloofness that they were to sustain throughout the entire proceeding.

One of the dragons pulled himself partially off the ground, walking his clawed hands back until he was a little more upright than he had been. His posture could not really be described as “grand”, though; in the dim light he resembled more a partially deflated sack of potatoes rather than a draconic statue. The other dragon made no move at all, apart from merely shifting his head to look toward the two new people in the clearing, his eyes half-lidded and bored. Well… at least that expression was closer to the detached coolness the girls had been expecting. The two looked more irritated than anything else. A popping, gurgling growl emanated from one of them.

The older sister had just opened her mouth to make their formal introduction and request the dragon’s display, when the annoyed potato sack spoke. “Do you think,” he began, his voice a husky rumble not bothering to hide his irritation, “you could stop your thrice-accursed growling?”

The older sister stopped, a feeling of indignation washing over her. She hadn’t even said anything yet! She noticed a moment later that the beast’s attention was not even directed at her. This hardly assuaged her annoyance, however; didn’t these dragons know that part of the proper etiquette in a dragon pact was giving a sorcerer one’s full attention, however haughtily? She was about to open her mouth to say something again, when the recumbent dragon spoke.

“Oh, sure, of course, whatever was I thinking?” his deep voice snarled. Was that… sarcasm? “Let me just remind my empty stomach that, despite not having a decent meal in two weeks, it should stop complaining!”

“Could you at least try to make a favorable impression?! Would putting in more effort be that hard?”

“Hey, I am showing a remarkable amount of decorum in not deciding these two look like dinner.”

The girls shifted uncomfortably as the dragons squabbled. They wondered if they shouldn’t just quietly exit the clearing and look for other dragons. The younger looked to the older in question. The latter looked to the night sky. Judging from the current placement of the stars, and adding in the time that they had been delayed in beginning their search… She looked back to her younger sister and frowned. There would probably not be enough time to find another dragon, much less two.

“…always only thinking of yourself!” the second dragon huffed.

“Myself?! Only my… Are you joking? Without me, you two idiots would have probably starved or been kicked out of the Enclave ages ago!”

“Oh, right, you’ve been  _ so _ altruistic! My mistake! It had nothing to do with you worrying about whether we’d make you look bad!”

“You are making BOTH of us look bad! I-“

“SHUT. UP!”

Both dragons and one sorceress jumped in surprise at the angry bellow ringing in the clearing. Their eyes, round with shock, fastened onto the angry sorceress. Hood now slightly askew, hands balled into fists, and eyes practically glowing with barely suppressed rage, she grit her teeth and stared daggers at the dragons. If social graces were going to be ignored so far, then so be it. The younger sister had run out of patience.

“Can you two scales-for-brains pay attention for one measly second, set aside what _ ever _ this is all about, and maybe, I don’t know, at least be cognizant of this being an important night?!” she fumed. Her sister’s mouth hung slightly ajar at her sister’s egregious breaking of protocol. How would the dragons react to being spoken to in such a way?

She wasn’t finished. Undaunted by the incredulous looks directed her way, she imperiously pointed a finger at the dragons. “Now get off your giant, lazy butts and give us a demonstration!” she demanded.

“…Please…” her sister added weakly, silently praying that the dragons wouldn’t decide to end them on the spot for their impropriety.

The dragons stared at them for a second longer before the prone dragon emitted an otherworldly bark… of laughter?! He jumped to his feet, grinning broadly, and took two leisurely steps toward the sorceresses. His closer proximity to the light made his scales shimmer a vibrant green. He fixed his equally verdant eyes on the feisty sorceress, who brazenly glared back at him. With another chuckle, he spoke. “How could I ever refuse such a request?” Eyes luminous with mirth, he took a step back, crouched on his haunches, and sprung into the sky.

He twisted and turned, attempting aerial acrobatics, if a little jerkily. He hovered for a moment, drawing in a breath, then, glancing down to make sure the sorceress was watching, breathed a trail of dangerous-looking acidic-green gas. Unable to resist the urge to showboat a little, he flew in an intricate pattern, continuing to breath out his poisonous gas, until he had managed to skywrite a picture of a skull and crossbones. Apparently satisfied, he descended from the sky, landing in front of the girls perhaps a little rougher than he had intended. His eyes found his favorite, and he bared his opalescent teeth in a smile. “How’s that for a display?”

The sorceress’ own light green eyes betrayed no feelings of being charmed by the dragon’s display. She stood with her arms crossed, eyebrow raised as she regarded the dragon with the cool detachment his own kind was supposed to show humans. Finally, she spoke. “That was, what, fifteen, maybe twenty seconds?”

The dragon blinked, his confidence faltering slightly. “What?”

“Your display. Isn’t a dragon’s display supposed to be around a minute long? You know, so you can show off as much skill as you can to impress a potential pact-mate? Or was that really all you had to show?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he sputtered, taken aback by the girl’s frankness. “I’ve got tons of skills!”

“Hmm.” she said.

The dragon flapped his jaw in indignation, seemingly unable to find adequate words to express himself. Instead his brother spoke up.

“I wonder how much energy you would have,” he wondered in a quiet growl, “if you hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks.”

“You haven’t… eaten?” the older sister spoke now, her voice laced with not only nervousness, but something else; sympathy tinged her tone as she shared a look of concern with her sister.

“It was our brother’s turn to hunt and gather. He hasn’t returned yet, and only one of us may go at a time,” the green dragon muttered miserably.

An understanding passed between the sisters. They each dug into their pockets and produced a small wrapped parcel. Opening the cloth wrappings, they took out the chunk of bread within- a snack brought along, just in case. Wordlessly, they held them out in offering to the dragons.

The green dragon enthusiastically came closer to the green-eyed sister, and happily accepted the morsel. Taking his time chewing, he regarded her with interest. His brother, however, only huffed. He summoned enough energy to finish sitting up and drew his head up proudly.

He scowled at the sorceress across from him, and the food in her extended hand. “We did not ask for your pity.”

“It is not pity we are offering,” she replied, meeting his eyes evenly. “You indicated you were hungry. We are only trying to help.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And you think that little crumb will be enough to help us?” he sneered. “And further, that we should accept such ‘help’ from humans we have no connection to? Why, without the bond of a pact…” his voice dropped to a growl, “you are nothing more than a bite, yourself.”

He expected a shudder. Perhaps even a whimper? As this was the sister who had at least tried to maintain the propriety of the dragon pact, a formal apology would not have been outside the realm of possibility, either.

What he did not anticipate was the ethereal glow that seemed to surround her as she steeled her gaze at him, unblinking. Under the bright starlight he could just make out a faint, rosy tint to it, the pure, natural power radiating from her like an oncoming storm. He had to stop himself from closing his eyes as the ripples hit him and a light chill ran up his spine. The unspoken message came across quite clear: dragon though he may be, she was not a sorceress to be underestimated or trifled with.

“Then let us see,” she said, a haughty edge to her tone, “if you are even worthy of the bond.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him commandingly. “Your display, if you please.”

The dull hunger pangs replaced by the thrilling sensation of meeting someone who refused to cow to his intimidation (and a human, no less!) caused adrenaline to course through his body, driving him to his feet. He strode into the light, head held high, pumping his wings a little to wake them up. Rufescent scales flashed as he suddenly took off, a saurian rocket aiming straight for the moon itself.

In the broadness of the night sky, he spread his wings to reach their full span, casting a shadow over his onlooker as his silhouette was framed by twinkling stars and moonlight. He opened his mouth and let out his most magnificent roar, sound waves disturbing the foliage of the nearby tree canopies. He folded his wings and dove straight for the group in the clearing, spreading his wings again and pulling up just in time to avoid hitting them. He looped back into the air, performing a few more loop-de-loops as he adjusted his trajectory to fly in a circuitous path, stirring up a small whirlwind. He wasn’t completely sure he could maintain his burst of stamina for a complete minute-long demonstration, but the sorceress’ look of cold, near-draconic meliority just before he took off drove him to try.

Finally, he slowed his flight to a hover just above the clearing. Drawing in a breath, he arched his neck and spewed forth a blazing inferno. His flame crackled menacingly in the air, further lighting the clearing, and he couldn’t resist casting a glance downward to catch the reaction of the sorceress to his grand finale.

Still mostly shielded by her hood, her face was difficult to read. Briefly, he thought he spied a look of disappointment, replaced too quickly to tell by one of calm scrutiny. For the second time that evening, not quite the reaction he was expecting.

He cut off his flame breath before it could fizzle out on its own (no sense risking embarrassment, after all), and made his descent to the ground. He landed, not perfectly, but in a way noticeably more graceful than his brother. He folded his wings and sat, regarding the sorceress with a similarly impassive expression to her own.

They continued to stare at each other for a moment longer, as though daring the other to be the first to shatter their studious silence. Not breaking eye contact, the sorceress took a few steps closer to him, noting to herself the brilliance of his vermilion eyes as he surveyed her movement. Wordlessly, she pulled her arm back, and tossed the bread chunk to him, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips as he caught it.

While he chewed (and mentally kicked himself for inadvertently accepting the handout- how  _ dare _ she catch him by surprise!), she looked at him thoughtfully.

“So… you’re a fire dragon,” she mused. It was not a question.

He swallowed the bite of bread and the sarcastic comment begging for freedom. Instead he narrowed his eyes slightly and craned his neck down to look her directly in the eye. “Is that a problem?”

She glanced upward in a brief survey of the night sky, then met his gaze again. She reached up and took her hood down, revealing a coppery cascade of ginger hair, the exact length hidden by the rest of her cloak. Her eyes drew most of his attention, seeming to hint at a family history of fae lineage; they were an extraordinary shade of pink, a burning alpenglow, as though pools of molten lava swam beneath a thick layer of ice. The orb’s light illuminated her fair features, and she graced the dragon with a coy smile. “Perhaps not.”

Taking her cue from her older sister, the other sorceress had also removed her hood, revealing cropped hair that hung just above her shoulders, the color so dark it practically blended in with the shadows. Nodding to each other in confirmation, the girls faced their respective dragons.

They raised both hands, palms facing upward, beckoning the dragons forward, just as they had practiced. The dragons moved to meet them, lowering their heads until they were settled in the girls’ outstretched hands.

The older sister began, her eyes emitting a soft glow as she began speaking the time-honored words laced with magic.

“I, Blossom, a sorceress of the house Utonium, first daughter of John, do humbly request of you, dragon of fire, to bind yourself to me in a Dragon’s Pact.”

“I, Buttercup, a sorceress of the house Utonium, second daughter of John, do request of Butch, ‘Baron of Berserk’, dragon of poison, to bind yourself to me in a Dragon’s Pact.”

The red dragon shot his brother a look nearly as vitriolic as Butch’s own poison. They had already exchanged names? And what was with the addition of the fake title? Had his brother completely forgotten everything they had ever learned of the traditions of making a pact?

Butch only winked cheekily back at his brother while Buttercup rolled her eyes at them both. “Sorceress Buttercup, I, Butch, dragon of poison, do accept your offer, and agree to bind our fates in a Dragon’s Pact.”

Well. Clearly it was up to the other two to at least try to save the the reverence of the ceremony.

“Sorceress Blossom, I, Brick, dragon of fire, do accept your solemn proposal, and agree to bind your fate to mine in a Dragon’s Pact.”

Upon their acceptance, the dragons’ eyes began to glow in concert with their selected sorceress. The gentle light continued to spread from each partner, engulfing both sorceress and dragon in a harmonious blend of their magical auras as they spoke their vows in turn.

“May the light of Bala’ur and Vre’jitor shine on as witness to the union of our spirits.”

“With the blessing of Bala’ur and Vre’jitor, my spirit unites with yours.”

“My power will be your power, my strength will be your strength.”

“Willingly I share my power and strength, with you alone.”

“Our lives and magic to be forevermore intertwined, I pledge this vow to you.”

“Our spirits as one, I pledge this vow to you.”

The clearing was now illuminated with the dancing, colorful light radiating from each set of pact mates as they prepared to speak the ages-old incantation that would irrevocably seal their bond. Eyes riveted on their counterpart, they spoke in unison.

“ _ Praestigiatrix et Draconis in aeternum _ .”

A beacon of light erupted from where they stood, momentarily lighting up the surrounding area of woods.

Not far from where her sisters had faded into the shadows of the forest to begin their quest, a girl sat among the trees. As she felt the flash of brightness illuminate her face, she reached up to wipe the first of a fresh wave of tears from her eyes.


	2. Part Two: A Push

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for some angst... someone is feeling a little "blue" *nudge nudge, wink wink*

Part 2: A Push

His Life’s Flame was still burning.

It was still burning, and that should have been enough.

Enough to spur her into action along with her sisters… but… she couldn’t.

She just  _ couldn’t _ .

Because it was her fault.

There wouldn’t even be this sense of urgency, this need for action, if not for her.

It had started as a potion gone awry; her father and his dragon had been working on a formula to enhance the abilities of the user. Mojo, her father’s dragon partner, had volunteered to try it out. The potion, at first, seemed like a success; it did have the effect of increasing the power and strength of the black dragon. But not long after, Mojo’s cackles of glee as he tested his enhanced abilities turned a little more… unhinged.

Unfortunately, a side effect of the potion was that their father’s dragon had gone quite mad.

Mad with power, mad from the potion’s influence, it was hard to say what exactly had been the cause. But the crux of the matter was their father had tried to reason with the dragon… and he had failed.

He had failed… because of  _ her _ .

She had wanted to help. She had wanted to prove that she wasn't the weakest, she had wanted to prove that she could do just as much as her sisters. No one had ever told her she was less than, no one had ever come out and called her weak, but she could feel it.

She had waited until her father had Mojo distracted; he was trying to calm him down, speaking soothingly, pouring ancient magic into his words as he went, hoping he could lull him to sleep, harmless, until he could find a way to undo the damage caused by the potion. He had told the girls to stay back, safely hidden; he would need their help when he successfully finished his calming spell, but if he didn’t, well… stay hidden. Stay safe.

Blossom and Buttercup had readied spells, just in case. She had also readied a spell, something new she had been working on, but unlike her sisters, she was not content to wait to use it. She could help her father, maybe even save him some time by knocking out Mojo with her spell! All that mattered was for him to fall unconscious, right?

She had grit her teeth and sprung as the dragon’s lids began to droop. Her aim was true; the sonic blast hit her target. Her sisters had stared at her, shocked at her action, and for the briefest moment she had been proud. Proud of having been able to impress them with her bold act.

And that’s when it all went wrong.

Far from knocking out the dragon, the sonic reverberations made his eyes fly open, disoriented and more angry than before. In one horrifying moment, he had turned his head and locked eyes with her, smiled evilly, and then turned back to her father.

Her father, eyes on her, terrified that his crazed partner would focus an attack on his youngest daughter, caught the imminent danger too late. Mojo’s claws had wrapped around him, and in a cruel instant, he had shot into the sky, an insane roar of triumph echoing across the valley.

The sisters had been left staring in speechless bewilderment while Mojo and their father became an increasingly minuscule speck in the sky.

Neither of her sisters had said anything; but their demeanor told her everything she needed to know. Blossom had looked simultaneously distraught and calculating, as though trying to formulate some idea of how they could rescue their father. Buttercup had clenched and unclenched her fists, her jaw set, and radiating anger. They didn’t sling accusations at her and they didn’t yell at her, even though she would have understood if they had. Maybe they felt like they didn’t need to; the stream of tears spilling down her cheeks accompanied by little gasps for breath probably indicated she was beating herself up enough as it was.

As she still was.

Magic tended to be incredibly potent when it was combined with groups of three; those in the community referred to it as the “Power of Three.” So when a set of triplets had been born to a gifted sorcerer, naturally much had been expected of them from the beginning.

Especially concerning the sacred tradition of the Dragon’s Pact.

Not every sorcerer or sorceress was able to make a Dragon Pact. Performing the ritual not only took a certain degree of natural ability on the part of the sorcerer, but it also took a certain kind of character to bond with a dragon. Dragons were widely considered not only wed to tradition and dignity, but were also difficult to impress. They held themselves to high standards, not unlike sorcerers, and if they perceived the sorcerer to be unworthy of a pact, there was nothing that could force a bond.

Even so, the expectation was that the girls would successfully find pact-mates. Their father had partnered with a powerful black dragon, after all; surely the Power of Three would guarantee their success.

As if on cue, a sudden beam of intense light flooded the area, and the girl closed her eyes tight. Tears streamed down her cheeks thinking of her sisters; they had encouraged her to come, but when they had gotten into the forest, she felt her resolve crumble. She just couldn’t… Couldn’t risk making even more of a mess than she had already caused.

_ I’m useless _ … she thought, wiping at her tears.

“Um, pardon me, but I have to ask… are you a person? Like, a real, actual person?” An apprehensive voice pulled her out of her disquiet. A few feet away stood a boy who looked to be around her age. Striking, deep blue eyes looked at her warily. He smiled hesitantly. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a strange question, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at his surroundings dubiously, “…I’ve just been wandering for a while, and haven’t seen any real people, so… you never know, right? Might just be an illusion.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Which would mean that I am explaining myself to a figment of my imagination right now…”

“I’m real,” she uttered quietly, trying in vain to make her voice sound even.

“Oh, good!” he sighed with relief, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. Some of his tension seemed to melt away, and he chuckled again. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I mean, so far it’s just been my family I’ve hallucinated, so I thought you were probably real; anyway, I don’t think my subconscious could have dreamed up anyone so—” he stopped himself, his cheeks darkening slightly before giving her a crooked smile. His expression shifted to one of concern as he noticed the wet streaks running down her face, and azureous eyes shimmering with as-yet-unshed tears..

He stepped closer and knelt, his lanky form seeming to fold up as he lowered himself to her eye level. He dug in the small pouch hanging from his belt and produced a kerchief, offering it to her as he spoke. “Are you alright?”

She graciously accepted the cloth and dabbed at her eyes, sniffling. Since her father’s abduction, she hadn’t felt like talking about her inner turmoil or the agony she had been experiencing to anyone, least of all her sisters. But there was something about the earnestness with which this boy regarded her that made her feel like unloading her grief to a perfect stranger in the woods wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I…” she swallowed, “I can’t help. They needed me, they wanted me to help them, my sisters, but… I’d just mess it up. Like I did with my father… I just wanted to help, but…” she looked the stranger in the eyes. “I was useless.” Her mouth flattened into a straight line as she tried to keep her lower lip from quivering. She looked back at the damp cloth she clutched in her hands. “ _ I’m _ useless.”

He sat on his haunches, thoughtful, for a few minutes. At last he stood, and offered her a hand to follow suit. She took it timidly, and rose to join him. He held her hand a moment longer, then gave her a careful smile.

“No,” he simply stated.

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

His gaze held an intensity she felt to her core. “No one is useless. Your life and what you do make a difference, even if you can’t see it right away. I think sometimes it takes someone else pointing out when we’ve done something useful, even if we weren’t aware we were being helpful, for us to see it ourselves.”

Unsure of how she should respond, she only continued to look at him. She glanced down at their hands, still delicately joined.

Noticing, he let go, and stuck his hands in his pockets. He whistled tunelessly, then glanced at the sky, before his eyes came back to rest on her. “Well, it looks like the evening is getting closer to morning… I think I should be on my way. And your sisters are probably wondering about you, too.”

The hand he had held so gently was now grasping her opposite arm. “Maybe...” she replied uncertainly.

“Say, before you go, do you think you could tell me the way to the Dragon Enclaves?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Sure,” she nodded. “If you take that path through those trees over there, it will lead you up the hills to the Enclaves.” She looked up at the stars, squinting to find the right ones. “You should hurry, though,” she added. It would be a shame if this boy, probably a sorcerer come to make a Dragon Pact, missed his opportunity because he had stopped to talk to her.

He looked to the trees excitedly, then turned back to her, a grin spread across his face. “Thank you! Thank you, Miss….?”

“Bubbles.” She returned his infectious smile. “And you’re welcome!”

“Boomer,” he pointed to his chest. “It was nice to meet you, Bubbles!”

“And you, too, Boomer,” she said shyly. “Thank you… for listening to me.”

He grinned. “Anytime!” With that, he turned toward the path she had indicated and, waving, took off.

She gathered her cloak around her, pulled her hood up and turned, thinking to head home. She had barely taken a step when she heard Boomer’s voice call out to her.

“Bubbles!”

She turned to see him standing at the mouth of the path, positively beaming at her. “Yes?”

“You have no idea how much you just helped me,” he called, eyes glistening in the starlight. “You are not allowed to say that you’re useless ever again!”

She giggled at his enthusiasm, and true enough, she felt like a lead weight had been pushed off of her. Waving one more time and returning his smile, she turned and made her way home.

_ Maybe… _ she thought,  _ maybe there is still hope, after all _ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Blues! This interaction was actually the original idea I had for the story (which then, as mentioned before, spiraled into a little more than I had anticipated). I'm excited to post it!  
> Will they ever meet again? Will Bubbles ever find a pact-mate herself? Stay tuned for Part 3!  
> If you read and enjoyed, feel free to comment & kudos!


	3. Part Three: A Ponderation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ponderation: an act, or the act of, pondering

Part 3: A Ponderation 

**_One year later_ **

“Bring bread,” Butch advised her. “Trust me.”

“It _might_ come in handy…” Brick had rolled his eyes and grumbled. “But really, you should rehearse the steps of the ritual again. Most dragons aren’t as understanding as we were.”

“‘Understanding,’ huh?” Blossom arched an eyebrow at her partner. “The way I remember it, we were having to be pretty lenient with you two.”

Brick mumbled something unclear under his breath, then ran a hand through his auburn hair, muttering a little louder that he was going to go practice some aerial maneuvers as he excused himself. Blossom lightly bumped her shoulder against him as he passed, a playful motion that did not go unnoticed by him. He cast a roguish smile at her over his shoulder and continued out the door, shifting fluidly into his draconic body when he was fully outside.

The girls had found the boys’ ability to shift between their dragon and human forms somewhat jarring at first; Mojo had also had that ability, but more often than not preferred to stay in his dragon form. Rarely had they seen him in human form, and when they did, they had always assumed a potion’s involvement. Buttercup was so startled when Butch shifted shortly after they had completed their pact that she nearly blasted him. Fortunately, Blossom’s studies had made her more familiar with the notion of dragons having two forms they could take, so she was able to calm her sister. What she hadn’t been prepared for was that their dragon partners would often prefer to spend time in their human forms with their counterparts. Not that she or Buttercup really minded; for all their grump and bluster when they had first met, it turned out that Brick and Butch were generally rather pleasant to be around (especially when better fed and rested). Their personalities harmonized so well with that of their pact-mates, that Bubbles had often mused to herself that they were like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle; the way they fit with her sisters, it was as though they were always meant to be there. When she had expressed those thoughts to her sisters, Buttercup had only hummed contemplatively, surveying Butch across the room. Blossom had smiled and said, “The auras don’t lie.”

Auras… one of the many things she had to keep in mind concerning the Dragon Pact. Brick had a point when he suggested she review the ritual; apart from the process itself, there was also the etiquette to keep in mind.

In the months previous, her sisters had gently begun to bring up the approaching Pact Night. While they and their dragons had certainly grown stronger together, the _Power of Three_ would give them a definite advantage in finding and rescuing their father. Her sisters’ words had moved her, yes; seeing how they and their pact-mates not only got along, but enhanced each others’ magic had intrigued her, too; but there was something else that steeled her resolve.

A distant memory, a little “fuzzy” around the edges, of meeting someone; a boy, she was sure of, with tousled blonde hair, and the most beauti— _deepest_ blue eyes she had ever seen. She had met him the last Pact Night, while she had been drowning in her own feelings of guilt and ineptitude; he had rescued her, throwing her the lifeline she needed by listening to her without judgment, and offering her words that had turned the tide in her favor. She had thought of those words, and subsequently him, every day for the last year. When she started to feel discouraged, knowing that she had helped someone was her anchor. She would not think of herself as useless; she was not allowed to, after all. She could still see the joy, almost relief on his face, as she thought of what he had said. The whole memory was so foggy, though, she might have thought her subconscious had invented him…

Except for one thing.

When she had arrived home that evening, feeling better than she had in months, she discovered she was still holding the boy’s kerchief he had let her use to dry her tears. Her immediate thought had been to return it to him, but… she had the strangest feeling. She _knew_ he had told her his name; but she could not remember it. As though it was on the tip of her tongue… She wracked her brain, trying to recall even the first letter, and realized as she searched her memories that she was recalling less and less of their encounter. Had it even happened? Or had she merely fallen asleep and dreamed the whole exchange?

She gripped the cloth tighter. No. He had been real. And his words…

She was _not_ useless.

She had helped him.

“ _You have no idea how much you just helped me!_ ”

As she clung to the memory, fixing it to the very real accidentally-pilfered kerchief in her hand, an idea struck her: there was Fae magic at work here. She didn’t know much about the boy or his circumstances, but she would be willing to bet anything that he had been touched by Fae magic. It would certainly explain why her memories of meeting him, his face, his name, so much clearer even an hour ago, were now resembling more a distant dream.

She had grasped his kerchief, holding it to her chest, shutting her eyes so tight it almost hurt, and promised herself: _I will remember_.

His words were too important to her to forget.

Now she stood poised on the precipice of making her own pact; this was the night Vre’jitor and Bala’ur would align, and she would soon be making her way to the Dragon Enclaves. She had to be ready. She _would_ make a pact; she _would_ help her family!

“Approach the dragon respectfully…” she murmured, beginning to recite the pact procedure.

“A young dragon would be best,” Buttercup interjected. “They’re… mostly easier to deal with.”

“Aw, you flatter me,” Butch simpered. She elbowed him, and he laughed. A half smile graced her features.

“And it allows more time for you to grow in your abilities together. That gives you a stronger connection.” She finished. Butch’s eyes seemed to twinkle and he opened his mouth to add something, but Buttercup stopped him. “Nope.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

She arched an eyebrow at him and narrowed her eyes. “Is that so?”

He crossed his arms across his broad chest and squared up to his partner, grinning in a way that could only mean one thing. “Oh, yeah,” he rumbled, voice coming out closer to a growl. “A total drag.”

She took a step closer, face coming within inches of his and eyes beginning to glow eagerly. “Well maybe I should just drag you—“

“Take it outside.” Blossom deadpanned. A year's worth of experience told her that, however this went down, it would be much better to avoid potentially wrecking the house.

Bright green eyes not breaking contact with Butch’s, Buttercup reached up quickly and aggressively ruffled his black, spiky hair, then turned and bolted for the door. Momentarily caught off guard by her sudden action, he followed behind her, chasing her as she led him outside, captivated by the thrill of her challenge and howling with wild laughter. The door slammed behind them, and soon the sounds of energetic sparring could be heard from outside.

Blossom sighed, then smiled at her youngest sister. “Do you want to keep going over the pact procedure? I can listen, and offer some advice, if you like.”

Bubbles looked at the door anxiously. “Are you sure you don’t need to keep an eye on them? You know how they can be…”

Blossom shook her head firmly. “No, Brick is out there; he won’t let them escalate things.” A muffled crash followed by an exclamation was heard. Blossom bit her lip. “ _…too_ much, anyway.”

Sure enough, a stern snarl resounded from outside. Blossom smirked at the unmistakable sound of her pact-mate’s voice, and Bubbles giggled.

“It’s important to have confidence in your pact-mate.” Blossom shrugged. “Which brings you to the next step in the Pact Night ritual…?”

“Politely request a demonstration of the dragon's skill.” Bubbles stated. “But remain composed, even if the display is really, really impressive. Then, if it seems you and the dragon are compatible, formally propose a pact.” She held her hands up in demonstration, and Blossom nodded her approval. Bubbles lowered her hands, then asked, “But how can you be sure you and the dragon are compatible?”

“Well… part of it is how your auras react to each other, like I said before.”

“Yeah, but, how do you _know_?”

Blossom read her sister like a book. “You’re worried you might pick the wrong dragon.”

Bubbles nodded hesitantly. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, when you and Buttercup met the boys, how did you know which one to approach? Since you met them at the same time?”

Blossom regarded her thoughtfully. “You know… I’m not sure. It was so dark, we couldn't even immediately tell what sort of dragons they were until the light hit them just right.” She paused in consideration. “But you know, I think that was for the best. Our auras had a lot to do with confirming our compatibility, but before that… well, I’ve come to think there may be something deeper to it. Before I knew what kind of dragon he was or had anything more than an admittedly poor first impression of him, there was something that drew me to Brick.” She side-eyed the door and muttered, “…however unexpected.” She turned her attention fully to Bubbles. “I guess the point is, even if you have in mind what you’re looking for, you may still find yourself surprised.”

Bubbles mulled that over, and was about to ask something else when a loud crash from outside caused them both to flinch. It was followed by an indignant gasp from Brick, and then silence.

“Well that seems ominous,” Blossom’s eyebrows knit together. She smiled apologetically at Bubbles. “I better go make sure nothing happened to anything important.” A small sigh escaped her lips. “ _…again…_ ”

“I’ll join you in a moment,” said Bubbles, gesturing to her small assortment of items she still needed to pack in her knapsack for her evening’s voyage. Her sister nodded, then excused herself.

Bubbles started bundling the things she had gathered into her small bag, thinking over her sister’s words. They had always been told picking a pact-mate was a choice, but from what Blossom said, it seemed like there really might be something deeper to it, too. Could it be that sorcerers and dragons were by nature already so connected to magic that they missed when a bit of fate was at play?

A sudden thought occurred to her, a question for the boys. She quickly finished packing and headed for the door, pausing at the kitchen. She was about to grab a chunk of bread, but noticed the cookie jar. Thinking better of it, she decided to take a couple cookies instead, wrapping them up in a piece of cloth from inside her bag. Tucking them away, she went to join the group outside.

She found them on the the lawn, Blossom and Buttercup performing a mending spell on several broken pieces of pottery and being watched over by a sheepish-looking green dragon.

“You’re really lucky these were all empty.” Blossom scolded. “If any of Father’s potion components had still been in these, who knows what could have happened!”

“I said we’re sorry!” Buttercup frowned. “It’s not like we were aiming for these!”

“You’re lucky you both didn't go careening into the neighbor’s house!” Brick added, stern annoyance still evident as he flapped above them. Bubbles noticed a faint, greenish cloud drifting away, dispelled by the breeze the red dragon’s wings produced. “Not to mention if there had been an open flame nearby! What kind of gas _was_ this, anyway?”

“I could have conjured a shield…” Butch grumbled, shifting to his human form. He started moving the mended pots away from the pile of debris.

“Enough to protect everyone from an explosion? Or just the two of you?” Brick glared.

“We’re working on it!” Buttercup snapped.

“You still need to be more careful. You two get too carried away sometimes.” Blossom wiped her brow. Buttercup looked like she was about to say something else, when they noticed their sister. “Oh, Bubbles! Are you ready to go?”

“Just about,” she said, then nervously added, “I had a question, though… for the boys.”

Brick turned his attention to her, curious. Butch paused in his clean-up efforts and came over, casually propping an arm on Buttercup’s shoulder and leaning in. “Needing some advice, huh? I don’t blame you for wanting to tap into the wisdom of a couple dragons.” He grinned.

“Um… not exactly,” said Bubbles. "I was just thinking… Didn’t you two say you have a brother?” she asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge to her tone.

“We sent him out on an errand a year and a half ago… and we haven’t seen him since.” Brick snorted, a curl of smoke drifting up from his snout as he twisted in the air.

“I still can’t believe the little jerk didn’t come back; it’s not like we didn’t give him plenty of time to find provisions and get back before pact night.” Butch turned his eyes apologetically to Buttercup. “Actually being well fed probably would have made us a little more approachable. Not to mention our displays would have been so much more impressive…” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

Buttercup smirked back at him. “Not like your attitudes deterred us in the slightest. No matter how much of a beast you were being, I wasn’t going to back down.”

“And I’m not sure a full display would have really mattered, anyway; it _had_ been my intent to find a white dragon.” Blossom said, watching as the red dragon landed with the grace of a cat a few feet away and shifted seamlessly into his human form.

He strolled over, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he stopped mere inches away from her, half-lidded eyes meeting her gaze with a steady intensity. “But you’re not dissatisfied.” It was not a question.

She reached up and moved a strand of his rebellious red hair back into place affectionately, her eyes never leaving Brick's. “Of course not; not when it turns out our natural abilities complement each other so well.”

Bubbles cleared her throat. She was feeling tense enough about her situation as it was, without feeling a different kind of tension coming from her eldest sister and her partner.

Brick turned toward Bubbles, seriousness in his eyes. “All that to say, you can try to look for him, but I don’t know if you’ll find him. While I wouldn’t necessarily describe our brother as a ‘free spirit’, I also wouldn’t put it past him to have gone and gotten himself bonded to a sorcerer,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “even accidentally.”

“Accidentally?” Buttercup asked in disbelief. “Is that even possible?” She reflected on the magic involved in selecting a pact mate, the intricate vows and magic woven into bonding herself and Butch. Could something so deliberate and meaningful really be done accidentally?

Butch laughed. “I don’t think so, normally, but I wouldn’t put it past Boom!” He shook his head, chuckling a moment more at the thought of his younger brother. “Or, he could have made a pact intentionally. We don’t have a way of knowing, but it could explain why we haven’t seen him for so long.” Butch caught the distressed expression on Bubbles’ face. “Or he could have finally shown up after we left…”

“In any case, he didn’t come back before you found us. You might be able to find him on pact night, but you might not. I wish we could tell you we know of other young dragons looking for a pact mate, but unfortunately, we don’t. It’s going to be up to you.” Brick stated, not bothering to mince words.

“It was always going to be your, and your dragon’s, choice, anyway,” Blossom added gently. “No one can choose a partner for you.”

Bubbles nodded, still a little uncertain. She was resolved to find a dragon and make a pact, but she had hoped her sisters’ partners might be able to at least give her a lead to finding a partner of her own. And she couldn’t shake the feeling, the familiar tingle on the back of her neck, as Butch mentioned his brother’s name; as though she had heard it somewhere before… Anytime he or Brick spoke of their brother (admittedly infrequently in the year that she had known them), it was always the same. She had hoped it might mean something, but…

She sighed. “Thank you for the advice; I _am_ sorry you don’t know anything more about what happened to your brother. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I didn’t know where Blossom or Buttercup were, and for so long…”

Butch shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably, staring at the little cloud of dust he had kicked up. His eyebrows knit together, and a small frown played at his features.

“He’s probably fine,” Brick said, a little too evenly, as though this were something he told himself, and possibly even Butch, often. “He’ll turn up…eventually.” He watched as Butch’s little cloud of dust settled back onto the ground, an uncomfortable silence settling among them at the same time.

Blossom broke it first, ever tactfully redirecting the subject. “Well, Bubbles, do you have everything gathered you wanted to bring with you? If you’re ready to go, Buttercup and I can walk you to the forest’s edge.”

“Yes, please,” Bubbles said, mentally kicking herself for inadvertently ruffling the dragons’ feathers. Well, maybe not feathers, per se; scales? Could one even ruffle scales?

Buttercup turned to the boys. “Maybe you two could work on that ‘exploding gas cloud’ technique a little more? It could use some polish.”

Butch met her eyes and nodded, an unspoken thanks passing between them for pulling him out of his funk. He stepped backwards and shifted back into his dragon form. He turned his head towards Bubbles. “Good luck, Blondie!” he said, then launched himself into the sky.

Brick followed suit, shifting, then stretching his wings out. “Be careful,” he offered, not quite meeting Bubbles’ eyes. “And don’t feel like you have to settle.” Without another word, he also leapt skyward, joining his brother in flight.

She watched for a moment as the two twisted and turned in the sky, almost serpentine in their fluidity and grace, deep emerald and vivid ruby scales (ruffled or not) catching the fading rays of sunlight and adding new depths of color to the forming sunset. She felt two hands clasp her own; her sisters smiled their encouragement to her, each giving the hand they held a gentle squeeze. Without another word, the three set out for the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, part three was going to be the end of this story...However, y'all may have picked up that I do enjoy a bit of world-building, and then suddenly more plot presented itself, and long story short, this is a short story that turned long. What was part 3 is now split into 3 parts itself. Relish the irony with me, won't you?  
> Anyway, part 4 is incoming soon! Stay tuned, friends!


	4. Part Four: A Predicament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it interesting to hear the other side of the story?  
> Angst ahead, please be advised!

Part 4: A Predicament 

One year, five months, and twenty-two days ago.

That’s how long it had been since he had seen his brothers.

It had taken him five months and thirteen days to come back from his errand; and when he had reached the cave, so excited and relieved to _finally_ be home, what had he found?

An empty cave.

Their little clearing, where he found evidence that made him think his brothers had been there recently, devoid of any wisenheimer dragons.

No one to tease him; no one to question why he was so late in returning, no one to roll their eyes at the situation he had gotten himself into…

And Boomer was _bored_. So, so very bored…and lonely.

He sighed, not for the first time that day.

He might be impulsive, and he might not always think things through as thoroughly as Brick, but he wasn’t stupid— ugh, he could just imagine Butch’s response to that; he could take an educated guess as to what happened to them.

One year, five months, and twenty-two days ago, he had finally been given the chance to complete a rite of passage and help his family. His brothers had decided he was ready to take on the hunt.

The hunt was an important occasion for a dragon; it was a chance to help support the rest of their clutch by providing food. Because many dragons lived in the Dragon Enclave, the elders of their species had decreed that only one dragon from each clutch could hunt and gather food at a time, so as not to over-hunt or over-gather a particular area. The food they brought back had to last them for a few months, until they were allowed to send another out hunting again. It was a serious responsibility; as such, it was usually Brick, or sometimes Butch that would go out on the hunt. Boomer was the youngest of them, and his brothers had not trusted him enough to send him out… until that fateful hunting time.

Brick had handed him their trusty bag of holding, and advised him on which of the hunting grounds he would likely be the most successful. Butch had argued a little, saying that the other area also tended to have plenty of food. They had given him a few warnings as well, and then sent him on his way. He might have been imagining it, but he thought that they looked almost proud as he waved goodbye.

“Don’t go making any pacts without me!” he had joked, taking to the sky.

“If you’re not back before Pact Night, then you’ll have a whole slew of other things to worry about!” Brick had called.

Boomer had laughed. Of _course_ he would be back before Pact Night, way before! It was months away, after all!

He had gone to the first hunting ground, and did an excellent job of finding food, if he did say so himself. Lots of meat; plenty of fruits and vegetables, perfectly ripe; he did his best to only take that which looked the most delicious, carefully packing it away into his bag.

Of course, due diligence demanded that he sample some of his bounty, just to make sure that he really had procured the tastiest provisions. This was his first hunt, after all; he had to show his brothers that he could do an amazing job!

In his opinion, the food really was exceptionally good. So good, in fact, that he couldn’t help but have a few more tastes… It took about a day to travel between these hunting grounds and the Enclave, and Boomer did feel a little hungry here and there on the way; why not sample some more? He mindlessly snacked as he flew, thinking about how pleased his brothers would be when they saw all the…

All the…

He stopped and hovered in the air for a moment, urgently feeling around inside the bag of holding.

Surely not.

Everything must have shifted in the bag… There had to be more in there…

He felt the wrappings the food had been in… Opened the bag as wide as he could and looked in…

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oooh, NO.

Had he actually…?

True, his brothers occasionally referred to his stomach as a “bag of holding” or “bottomless pit”, but…

Had he _really_ eaten all the food?

He continued to shake the bag, feeling around; there were a few bits and scraps left, but the vast majority was gone.

Boomer smacked his palm against his forehead, slowly sliding it down his snout. He massaged his temples. How could he? And on his first hunt?!

They would be disappointed in him. And it wasn’t the kind of disappointment where it was “oh, what a shame,” but the kind where they never let him help again. They would think he was useless. And he couldn’t stomach that. Butch, for all his attention span, would probably move on to the next thing to tease him about sooner rather than later, but Brick? Brick could hold a grudge like no other. He would remember Boomer’s screw up for months, if not years. He might not bring it up or say anything about it, but the look in his eyes would tell Boomer everything.

There was only one thing for it. He sighed, seeing how close he had gotten to home, and then turned and started back towards the wild. He wouldn’t be able to go to the hunting grounds he had just come from; if that area’s caretaker dragon saw him coming back so soon, he and his brothers would probably be banned. He cringed thinking of Brick’s reaction if he found out that Boomer had not only eaten nearly all the food, but also gotten their family banned from his favorite hunting ground. Nope, couldn’t risk going back there this trip; he would have to go to the grounds Butch had recommended. They were a little further out and in a different direction, located in the mountainous foothills. It would probably add an extra day’s travel into his quest, but at least he could correct his mistake without suffering too much of a time loss. At this rate, his brothers would probably just shrug off the amount of time it had taken him to complete the hunt and chalk it up to him being a rookie.

 _Maybe they won’t even notice!_ he thought with a kind of manic hopefulness.

On the plus side, it really hadn’t taken him very long to hunt and gather in the hills. He could see why Butch preferred the rocky terrain; there were plenty of places to hide, and his mottled green scales probably helped him camouflage. Boomer’s own blue-tinted scales had melded with the dusky grey stones of the mountain, providing him enough concealment that he was starting to feel like a master hunter.

The vegetation was a little different here, too, but still plentiful. His bag full once more, he started making his way back through the mountains.

As he glided above the range, taking his time to avoid running into any tall trees or stone outcroppings, he thought he heard a sound coming from just underneath him.

“Oh, not again,” he scolded himself. “I ate so much already, there’s no way I could be hungry again.”

He heard the sound again, and realized with a jolt that it was not coming from his own stomach. In fact… it sounded…

Human.

He carefully descended into the tree line, landing softly and listening.

There it was again. A weak cry of distress coming from somewhere among the trees. He followed the sounds, slinking through the woods, an odd feeling of foreboding coming on the louder the cries grew in his approach to their source.

Had it not been for the voice, he probably would have missed the partially-hidden cave entirely. Black lichen blanketed the rocks around the lair, blending with the shadowy entrance. A casual observer would likely not notice the cave for the trees and surrounding rocks.

Boomer crept closer, senses alert for any approaching danger; the scent of an unfamiliar dragon lingered in the air. Further evidence presented itself the closer he drew to the dark threshold; claw marks from talons bigger than his own gouging areas of the ground; slabs of tree bark missing, burned away, with acidic residue the only clue as to what had been the cause. Boomer swallowed nervously. All signs seemed to point to a large, mature dragon, who, given the location of its home, seemed to want to be left alone.

He wished his brothers were with him.

He didn’t want to be here.

“Hello…? Is there… is there someone out there…?”

Boomer froze. In his trepidation over the seemingly absent dragon, he had almost forgotten his reason for coming here in the first place. He shook his head and steeled himself. The other dragon’s scent was stale; it seemed like it hadn’t been there in a while. And it sounded like someone needed help.

He crossed into the cave, white-hot energy crackling around his muzzle to shed some light into the den. He heard a small gasp, and turned his head toward the source.

A man lay prone, his back resting against a stone outcropping. A heavy-looking chain encircled his ankle, binding him to the very rock upon which he reclined. Runes glowed faintly upon the shackle; a locking enchantment.

It seemed the dragon that occupied this cave had a prisoner.

Relief lit the man’s eyes for a moment, and he sighed. “Oh, good… you’re not—” a cough that seemed to shake his entire body cut him off.

“Are you alright?” Boomer asked, alarmed. Dragons taking humans as prisoners, while not unheard of, was really more the stuff of fairy tales these days. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard of such an incident. Still, he supposed there were probably some of his race that preferred to live in the past.

The man shook his head, clearing his throat, and ran a shaky hand through his dark, graying hair. “I’m alive,” he chuckled, “and at least now I’m not alone, I think?” He raised an eyebrow at Boomer, who wordlessly stuck his taloned hand out for the man to touch. The man let out another tired sigh as he confirmed the dragon’s existence. The corners of his mouth turned up. “Oh, good. I would hate to add ‘losing my mind’ to my list of dilemmas; the list is long enough, as it is!”

“Who are you?” Boomer asked. “Why are you here? Did you do something to anger a dragon? …Where _is_ the dragon, anyway?” He anxiously turned his head at his last question, as though he expected an outraged, territorial dragon to emerge at any moment.

The man opened his mouth to reply, but the runes on his shackle glowed as he tried to speak and no sound could be heard. He looked at the chain, mildly impressed. “Hmm… it seems he thought of everything,” he muttered. “How clever.” He paused in thought, his eyes squinting so much that they almost disappeared into the dark circles that rimmed them, making for an eerie sight. He worked his mouth, leaning forward to place a hand on the shackle, trying out a few different words.

Finally, he looked back at Boomer, who had watched the man with fascination. “It seems as though I won’t be able to answer all of your questions, but I’ll tell you as much as I am able to say.” He leaned back again, allowing the rock behind him to support him, his burst of curious energy apparently spent. “I can’t tell you my name, but as you seem to have surmised, I am a dragon’s captive. It was partly my own fault…” he closed his eyes, a pained expression briefly crossing his face. “The dragon left several days ago, I’ve lost track of how many; but I haven’t eaten since then, and I’m not sure when, or even if, he’s coming back.” The man chuckled bitterly. “I suppose this is my penance… for my carelessness.”

Boomer looked at the man sympathetically. He wished he could help him; he didn’t seem like someone who deserved to slowly starve to death, unsure of if he’d been cruelly abandoned or not. The magic, though… The man was positively awash with heavy and powerful enchantments. Even if he decided to break the Dragons’ Code and meddle with another dragon’s prisoner, there was no way he could release the man.

His eyes shifted to his bag. There might be something he could do, though…

“I’m afraid I can’t release you,” Boomer started, noting the man’s calm and resigned nod of his head. It seemed the man had worked that much out on his own. “But, I can feed you, if you wouldn’t be opposed.” He gestured to his bag of holding.

The man’s face shone with hope and hunger. “You would share what you’ve gathered with me?”

“Yes,” Boomer nodded firmly. “I can even stay with you for a day or so, to make sure you’re alright; or at least until your dragon comes back.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears. His voice shook a little as he spoke, “If I didn’t know you were real, I would swear I was dreaming right now… Thank you.”

The young dragon nodded again, and started digging through the bag. He handed the man a couple pieces of fruit, and watched in fascination as the prisoner gobbled the food down in a manner which could have put Butch to shame. The thought of one of his brothers almost made Boomer question his choice to help, but he quickly dismissed the doubt. He wasn’t sure why himself, but something told him he needed to help this man. Every magical creature knew that one did not just ignore those instincts.

Boomer stayed for several days, camping out near the cave, roasting fresh meat for the man, offering him generous amounts of the provisions he had collected, and keeping him company. There were many things the enchantment prohibited the man from speaking of, but they still managed to have good conversations. A few days in, Boomer had remembered the preservation spell he and his brothers used to keep their food fresh until the next hunt. He combined it with a concealment charm, and made a place next to the man’s alcove where he gave him a well-stocked supply of things he could eat if he became hungry when Boomer wasn’t around.

One morning, as Boomer was on his way to check on his friend, a light breeze caused him to freeze in his tracks. The fresh scent of a dragon, familiar only in that he had become accustomed to catching a whiff of it while visiting the hidden cave, wafted through the air. Boomer spared a glance over his shoulder toward the cave as he fled, shooting up into the air to avoid the returning beast. He felt bad leaving the man to his captor; but as the man’s strength had returned, he had reassured the young dragon during one of their chats. He had “meddled” enough just by feeding another dragon’s captive, and Boomer’s family was probably missing him.

A grimace darkened Boomer’s face. His family _was_ probably wondering what had happened to him.

And once again, all the food was gone.

Just as Boomer started thinking about dipping back down into the woods and gathering another round of provisions, the foothills’ caretaker soared past him, giving him a questioning side-eye. Boomer grinned nervously and shrugged, gesturing that he was just passing by. The caretaker nodded, then continued his patrol.

_Ugh. Stupid patrols._

Boomer flew on, weighing his options. He couldn’t hunt in either place he had just been; and there was only one other area of the forest that was even an option. Few dragons hunted there, and his brothers had warned him away, too; but he had no choices left. He either had to go home and admit to his brothers that he had failed in his first (and probably last) hunt… or he had to go _there_.

The part of the woods past the Fae Stones was unpredictable, and many creatures had been lost because of the weird enchantment on the place. As such, there were no restrictions on hunting there, but most usually avoided it.

He and his brothers had grown up hearing the legends about the Fae Stones; the tales usually told of someone who had gotten lost when they had lingered too long in that part of the woods, or been caught there after nightfall.

As Boomer approached the area, he looked to the sky to take in the position of the sun; nightfall wouldn’t be for at least a couple hours, it looked like. He promised himself he would get in and get out, and be back on the trail before nightfall.

He worked quickly, and was impressed by everything he was able to find. Making sure he had his bag stuffed to its maximum capacity, he set about finding the trail.

He hadn’t realized how far he had wandered; he had been more concerned with gathering as much food as he could as quickly as he could to pay attention to his surroundings. Finding the trail proved to be difficult, but at last, he set his feet upon it and began walking, shifting to his human form to move quicker through the particularly tree-dense areas. He looked up to the sky every few minutes, trying to see past the canopies to judge the sun’s position. He had no idea how much time had passed.

At last, the Fae Stones came into view. He let out a whoop of joy and relief, and began sprinting towards them.

He only realized how much darker the light of day had become as he passed the stones. He looked up at the clear sky overhead.

It wasn’t completely dark! It was only dusk! Only dusk! He could still make it!

His feet hit the trail on the other side of the Fae Stones. He put his hands on his knees and panted from the exertion, the adrenaline starting to wear off. He straightened up, throwing the bag over his shoulder, and made to walk down the trail. Luckily, the area of the woods near the Fae Stones was not far from the Dragon Enclaves. He would be home soon! He couldn’t stop a lighthearted chuckle as he thought about how excited he was to see his brothers and tell them everything (okay, _most_ things… he would probably leave out the part about his surreptitious feasting).

He stopped after taking only a few steps, registering a subtle change in his surroundings.

This… was not what this side of the Fae Stones was supposed to look like.

He turned, hoping to see the large, upright Stones behind him, assuring him that he was just imagining things…

But all he saw were more trees.

He blinked a couple times. He rubbed his eyes.

 _No_ , he thought. _No… No!_

Panicked, he turned back the way he had been walking, and took a few more steps. He saw something coming toward him. Lights?

The lights separated into sets of two, one set glowing red, the other green. They came closer to where he stood, transfixed. Could it be…?

His brothers, in their human forms like him, strode up to him, eyes glowing. “Brick…? Butch…? What are you doing here? Did you come to find me?” Boomer asked, daring to hope. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you…I thought I was lost!” he exclaimed. Draconic dignity was the only thing barely holding him back from running forward and throwing his arms around his brothers.

They stopped within a couple feet of him, crossing their arms over their chests. Boomer’s smile faded as he took in their disdainful expressions.

Brick tilted his head to the side, eyes glowing red hot as he spoke. “That was dumb.”

Butch interjected, “No, the dumbest.” Poisonous green eyes gleamed.

“No,” Brick shook his head. “Dumber than the dumbest.” Their eyes burned brighter.

“What?” Boomer blinked, uneasiness setting his senses on high alert. Something was very wrong here.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“You should have listened.”

“How _foolish_ ,” they spoke in unison, the horrid brightness in their eyes reaching its apogee, their mouths stretching ghoulishly into tormented sneers.

Boomer didn’t stop to think, didn’t question anymore; instinctively he shifted, not caring about the creaking complaints of the trees as his bulk pushed at several of them. He inhaled, then sent a blast of energy toward his “brothers”, accompanied by a screech of “ _NO!_ ”

Before the blast even hit, the images of Brick and Butch vanished in a plume of smoke.

Fae magic.

Boomer panted, heart hammering in his chest, and felt himself sink to the forest floor. In one of his hands he still clutched the bag of holding, clinging to it as though it were the only real thing in the world, the only thing connecting him to his home…

As the full realization of his predicament finally set in, he tilted his head back and let out a keening, sorrowful wail that filled the surrounding forest.

The Faewilde had claimed him.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how long it had been.

When he had finally scraped himself up off the forest floor, he had cast his preservation spell over the food in the bag of holding. Even if he was about to starve, he swore he would not lay a claw on it; not until he made it home. Not until he showed his brothers he had completed his task; not until they forgave him for taking much, much longer than he ever should have.

He _was_ going to make it out of this forest.

He tried many different strategies; running at the problem, like Butch would have, didn’t work; he found himself racing and flying around in circles, always ending up back at the same point. He tried thinking his way through the problem, retracing his steps, like Brick would have; while this did lead him to other areas of the forest, he was still in the Faewilde. As for himself, and what he would do… he wasn’t really sure. At the end of the day, what could he do?

 _Well_ , he thought sardonically, _being stuck here will give me plenty of time to think_.

He wished his brothers were here with him.

He would occasionally be visited by spirits, Fae Mirages, who would play with or torment him by impersonating his brothers. He had gotten pretty good at discerning them, though; to be fair, they did a decent imitation, but they couldn’t really duplicate the true essence of Butch and Brick. No one was as effortlessly chaotic as Butch or as genuinely arrogant as Brick.

He’d gotten the impression that the Mirages were just bored, and were only looking for someone to play with; so he would indulge them every now and then. He thought the Mirages had realized that he was on to them, but they seemed content to interact with him, and he didn’t mind as long as they weren’t being mean.

But he did miss his real brothers… if they were here, they would definitely discover a way out of the Faewilde. Nothing could stop all three of them.

He considered this one day as he had sat down to enjoy an apple with the Mirages. If only he could combine Butch’s optimistic bravado with Brick’s cool thinking, he wondered aloud whether that would be enough to show him a way out. He noticed the Mirages staring at him curiously. The one impersonating Brick giggled in a very un-Brick-like way, and shook his head. The Butch clone also shook his head, and very sagely (in a way that was nothing like Butch, either) said, “Your brothers are not in the Faewilde. _You_ are. It is not your brothers who can show you the way out.” He had said nothing more, but only stared at Boomer intensely, meaningfully.

Boomer stared back at him, bewildered. He had only meant his musing as rhetorical, and he certainly hadn’t expected the Mirages to answer him, much less with a thinly-veiled riddle. Of course he knew his brothers weren’t here! Did the Mirages think he was that dumb?

They were still staring intently at him, as though waiting for something. But what?

His brow wrinkled. They didn’t have to rub it in that he was the one that was stuck. And did they really have to say that part about Brick and Butch not being able to get him out? Those silly Fae; he hadn’t been talking about his actual brothers, he had been wishing he could use their talents. He knew he couldn’t really… after all, he wasn’t Brick or Butch. He was…

He froze, as the meaning behind the Mirage’s words hit him like a bucket of ice water. He raised his eyes, meeting theirs. The false brothers grinned at him as they realized their message was sinking in.“I’m Boomer.” He stated softly.

They nodded.

“I’m not Butch or Brick…”

They nodded again, grins growing broader.

“…so I don’t need to think about how they approach problems; I need to use my own way.”

“Yes.”

“…and using my way,” he spoke quietly, hopefully, hardly believing the answer he had longed for could be within reach, “will show me the way out.”

“ _Yes_.”

He looked between the two Fae; could that really be true? But it was so simple!

Mirage Brick spoke up. “When creatures are taken by the Faewilde, their first response is to panic; they usually blame their problem on someone else. If they’re not overcome by madness and get as far as trying to think of a way out, they will think of the strongest person or people they know, and will try to use that person’s strength to leave. Most never realize that they already have the strength they need to find the way out: their own.” He shrugged. “That’s the way of the Fae; _know yourself_.”

“But I’m not strong,” Boomer whispered. “Not by myself… not without…”

“They have theirs, and you have yours. Of course you are strong. We recognized your strength the first time you talked to us.” Mirage Butch affirmed.

“What is the thing you do that comes so naturally to you that you don’t even think to question it? What do you respond with when you are first confronted by something you see as a problem?” Mirage Brick urged, eyebrows raised as though he expected Boomer to blurt out the so-obvious answer.

Boomer thought to himself about the problems he had encountered since leaving for his hunt; he’d willingly gone to a second hunting ground instead of bringing his brothers back nothing, and instead of overhunting and leaving other dragons with less; he had readily surrendered the new food he had gathered to help the man in the cave; and…

He looked at the Mirages, who had been so malicious when he had first met them… until he had considered what it was that they needed: a friend.

His eyes widened as it dawned on him. His talent had been there the whole time.

“Compassion.”

The Fae beamed. They both stepped forward and each placed a hand on his shoulders, a faint light surrounded them, and their forms seemed to shimmer.

“We wish you well on your journey.”

“You will always have friends in the Faewilde.”

The Mirages continued to shimmer, until Boomer had to close his eyes against the radiance. When he opened them, he found himself standing alone, with only two faint wisps of smoke dissipating on either side of him.

He looked around, half expecting to see himself transported to a different place; instead, he found he was very much still in the same spot.

“Wait a second…!” he whirled around. “Wait just a second! Exactly how am I supposed to use ‘compassion’ to find my way out of here?!” He slid his fingers through his blonde locks, gripping his hair in slight frustration, and sighed. Those tricky Fae… He couldn’t help a chuckle. At least they had helped him find the answer he had been searching for since… Hmm. How long _had_ it been?

He started walking, wandering with no real direction in mind, attempting to count how many nights he had spent here. He was so distracted, lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized how far he had gone, when his reverie was interrupted by an odd sound.

Even in his human form, his hearing was sharp. The sound was close by, but muted, as though who or whatever was making it was trying not to be heard.

He could just leave it. After all, he had just learned how to find his way out of the forest, and he had to figure out how an innate sense of compassion was going to open a pathway home.

But the more he listened, the more he realized the sound was more of a delicate sobbing.

He was being drawn to it, his feet almost moving of their own accord. He was so focused on finding the source, he didn’t bother shifting back into his much more intimidating dragon form. Besides, if this creature was really trying not to be found, a dragon lumbering towards them would probably be an unwelcome sight.

He emerged into a small clearing, where it looked like several paths converged. His eyes immediately locked onto the huddled form of a girl sitting at the base of a tree. She wore a dark blue cloak that almost completely blended into the evening’s shadows. Her hood had fallen down, and the moonlight shone off the soft blonde curls framing her face. She tilted her head up and wiped at her cheeks, and Boomer stood transfixed for a moment as he got a better look at her face.

Were the Fae playing tricks on him again? He had never seen anyone so bewitching.

He took a few steps forward, swallowed his nerves, and spoke. “Um, pardon me, but I have to ask… are you a person? Like, a real, actual person?”

* * *

Sprinting up the path to the Enclaves, he excitedly shifted into his dragon form. At last! He was home! He could have cried, but his joy dried any tears that might have formed.

He turned up the well-known path and burst into the clearing outside their den, shouting, “BUTCH! BRICK! I’M HOME!!”

He looked around eagerly, expecting to see the surprised faces of his brothers.

_Hmm, not outside… Maybe they’re in the den!_

He loped over to the cave entrance and skidded inside, whipping his head about. “Brick? Butch?”

The den was empty.

He walked back out into the clearing and sat down, confused. Where were his brothers? He glanced about; this was definitely their den. Where had they gone? Had they left to look for food? _No… both of them wouldn’t have gone_ , he thought. Had they gone to search for him?

A prickling sensation tickled the back of his neck. Something was off. No, something was in the air…

 _Magic_.

He drew in a sharp breath as he became aware of the residual magic in the clearing. Slowly, he raised his eyes skyward.

The color of the night sky was becoming lighter as sunrise approached, but he could still make out the two bright stars twinkling at each other overhead.

His breath caught as everything came together: the magic, his missing brothers, even the girl he had met earlier… and the stars Vre’jitor and Bala’ur winking back at him.

Pact Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy. This is a part of the story that I have been really excited to post! "Whatever happened to Boomer?" Now we know. Poor little dude... I feel kind of bad ending the chapter where I did, but I promise it was the best place for the flow of the story!  
> If all goes according to plan (HA HA HA), next chapter should be the penultimate. Stay tuned for Part 5!  
> And as always, if you liked what you read, **KUDOS** will make me smile and **COMMENTS** will give me LIFE. I would love to hear from you! ^.^


	5. Part Five: A Performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is [art](https://numbah34.tumblr.com/post/627851052016877568) for this chapter!  
> Also, update: The next chapter will be the final one.  
> (And on a weird note, for some reason, my end-of-chapter notes from chapter 1 are showing up at the end of this, below the end-of-chapter notes for this particular chapter🤔; please disregard.)

Part 5: A Performance

One year and nine days ago, Boomer had returned, only to find that it was, or had been, Pact Night. He was sure that his brothers must have made pacts; nothing else could have explained their disappearance (nothing else he wanted to spend much time dwelling on, anyway… some fates were too horrid to let himself consider). He had thought about searching for them, but there was no guarantee he would find them; and anyway, when a dragon made a pact with a sorcerer, they were bonded for life. They would stay by their partner’s side; breaking a pact would have dire consequences for both, and anyway, he would never want them to.

But still… those jerks.

He had always envisioned them making their pacts at the same time, no one left behind. He knew realistically that it might not happen that way, but a family settlement of dragons would surely have attracted a fair amount of sorcerers!

But, no. He was gone for a little over five measly months, and his brothers had gone and made pacts without him!

Maybe there weren’t enough sorcerers to go around… maybe they were even glad he wasn’t there to take the attention off of them. _ “Oh, good, Boomer didn’t make it back for Pact Night! What a relief! He might totally show us up! Or even worse, make us look bad!” _

Boomer huffed at the imagined exchange. As if he would make them look bad! Intentionally! No, you know what? Even non-intentionally! The only threat he would provide was the threat of all the sorcerers wanting to make a pact with him, and ignoring his stupid brothers entirely!

Boomer scowled. All this time by himself might have made him just a little bitter.

And… he did miss them.

Jerks.

He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

He shook his head briskly. No time for thoughts like that, not now; at least for tonight, he couldn’t let anything distract him. He needed to be in top form.

This evening, he had hopes for making his own pact. The stars of the Dragon and Sorcerer were aligning. The perfectly clear sky only magnified their brightness… And he was ready.

He waited in the clearing, listening intently, all senses on high alert. In his head, he tried to remember all the etiquette he and his brothers had learned. A sorcerer would approach, and ask for a display. He would wait patiently, and be the very picture of draconic nobility. He would stay self-controlled and focused, and impress the sorcerer so much they would practically beg him to be their pact-mate. And he might,  _ might _ calmly agree, provided the auras were right.

After the elder dragons of the Enclave had taught them the pact procedure and expectations, Brick had made sure to drill them on it each week after they came of age. No brother of  _ his _ was going to make a fool of themselves during such a respected tradition. Boomer smirked.  _ If they could only see me now, _ he thought.  _ I’m going to do such a good job, they would only wish they could do half as well as me! _

His cocky expression faltered at the thought of his brothers and what their Pact Night had been like. Who was he kidding? They had probably done everything perfectly. Butch had probably gone all out, and Brick would have been so by-the-book their pact-mates had probably been left in awe. He felt his frown returning, and tried to shake it off. No need to dwell on—

He sensed it before he saw or heard anything; a familiar feeling, a distant memory, but mixed with the unmistakable tingle of magic. Something inside him seemed to ignite. His wings quivered as an instinctual need awoke.

Someone was coming… and every fiber of his being demanded that he be  _ seen _ .

Boomer bristled with exhilaration, lightning crackling from his lips and dancing across his scales. He leapt into the sky, a cobalt blur, and unbidden, began his display.

* * *

Bubbles strode up the pathway, her orb light drifting in front of her. There was no doubt she was about to find a dragon. The electrically-charged atmosphere raised the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. Still, when the blue dragon burst from the treetops, she couldn’t stop her high-pitched shriek of surprise. She smoothed her cloak, and hurried onward toward the clearing and large den just ahead, trying to keep her eyes on the dragon while not tripping and falling flat on her face.

She stopped as she cleared the trees and planted her feet on the rocky ground. She focused her eyes skyward, taking in the magnificent show. The dragon was quick in its flight, faster than she had seen her sisters’ partners fly, and agile, turning on a dime midair. The dragon opened its mouth and forks of lightning illumined the night sky so much it gave the temporary illusion of midday. Taking another breath, the dragon dove, lightning erupting and encapsulating itself entirely, like a living comet. It changed direction suddenly and began to ascend. A tail of pure electricity followed after it, as it rose higher and higher, until it abruptly halted, suddenly spreading its full wingspan and sending bolts exploding outward from it like a fireworks display. The dragon’s roar thundered its triumph as the light faded and the thunderbolts sizzled into sparks. It began a slow, flapping descent from the sky, coming to land gracefully in the middle of the clearing.

Bubbles, for all she had practiced, could not contain her enthusiasm. She applauded loudly and exclaimed “That was  _ amazing _ !”

Suddenly remembering herself, she clasped her hands to prevent further clapping, and tucked them back inside her cloak. She gave the dragon an embarrassed smile.

The dragon surprised her again by grinning back. “Thanks!” he beamed.

She felt a flutter stir within her. There was something about the way he smiled that seemed oddly familiar. Bubbles tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she considered him, tilting her head to the side. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “…Are you Boomer?”

The dragon’s shock was palpable. “I’m terribly sorry, but have we met?” He cocked his head to the side, too, but found it difficult to make out any distinguishing features underneath the sorceress’ hood with such low light from the hovering orb.

“No, or at least, I don’t think so…” she said. “It’s just, I know your brothers, and—“

“Brick and Butch?” he interrupted, incredulous. His missing brothers? What? What were the odds?

The sorceress nodded her head, and Boomer felt over a year’s worth of different emotions engulf him all at once. Joy, sadness, anticipation, relief, irritation… it was hard to focus on just one.

After a moment, he settled on umbrage.

“So you know my brothers.”

“Yes! Actually,” she murmured, feeling a little bashful; were there usually this many pleasantries exchanged during a Pact Night ritual? “…They’re my sisters’ pact-mates.”

“How nice for them,” he snipped. Far from meeting her gaze, he stared instead at a small pile of rocks off to the left.

If Bubbles had not been around two other dragons for the last year who occasionally displayed similar pouty bouts of mood, she might have been more uneasy concerning the dragon’s sudden change of tone.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly. In the dimness of the orb’s light, she thought she saw his frown deepen. “…Do you want to talk about it?” she offered.

Boomer whipped his head to face her so swiftly it caught her off guard, and she felt her shoulders jump in surprise. However, instead of the annoyance that had been on his face moments before, he looked stricken.

“They sent me out on my first hunt. And then… well, it’s a long story, but it took me a lot longer to come back home, and by the time I got here, they were gone. No trace, nothing left behind…” He shook his head, eyes drifting downward to his claws as he flexed his fingers in and out, gouging tiny troughs into the dirt and rocks, then quietly, dejectedly added, “…except me. They left  _ me _ . I couldn’t finish my task on time, and they probably thought I couldn’t finish it at all… But I  _ did _ ! And I had a really good reason for being late, too! …Well, mostly… But they weren’t here to see. They made their pacts and left.” He huffed. “I bet they sent me on purpose! They probably thought I would fail, and they probably thought I would make them look bad on Pact Night. They think I’m useless… And maybe they’re right. Here I am, making  _ myself _ look bad on Pact Night.” His growling chuckle held no humor. “I really  _ am _ useless…”

“ _ No _ .” The firmness in Bubbles’ tone surprised both of them. Even in his gloom, Boomer couldn’t help but marvel at the light blue glimmer of the sorceress’ aura beginning to illuminate the clearing. As she spoke, her aura swirled about her, its light pulsing steadily brighter with each word. “No one is useless. Your life and the decisions you make… they make a difference.”

Bubbles noticed a darker blue aura begin to emanate from the dragon, who was now staring at her intently, head cocked to the side. She nervously clutched at her bag concealed beneath her cloak, somehow deriving a small comfort from it. The dragon appeared to be hanging on her every word, the very words spoken to her over a year ago; words that, to her, were nearly as precious as the rites she hoped to perform this evening. At the last Pact Night, a stranger had spoken these words to her and helped her find her way; now it seemed as though this dragon could use the same help.

“Someone once told me that, when it comes to ourselves, we don’t always know when we’ve done something that’s been meaningful to someone else… Sometimes I wonder if that person even knows how much what they said helped  _ me _ !” In the brighter glow of their combined auras, Boomer could see her smiling at him. “You are not useless. You’ve helped someone before… maybe it’s just that no one has told you yet.”

A memory stirred in Boomer, a spark of recognition. One year and nine days ago, he had found his way out of the Faewilde with the unwitting assistance of a distressed girl; her anguish had beckoned him forward, his innate compassion reaching out for her, demanding to help her in any way he could, at last breaking him free of the forest's enchantment. A welcome respite from his own personal worries, he had often wondered what had become of her, and now…

Could it be?

Of course he recognized these words… they were, after all, his own. He watched the light and dark blue auras dance around each other joyfully, as though they had been waiting forever to be together. Turning his eyes to the sorceress, he could see she was equally entranced.

Feeling the dragon’s eyes on her, Bubbles turned to meet his gaze. Blossom had said that the auras’ reaction would help put her mind at ease when making her choice, but there was something else… Something about those soulful, vivid blue eyes that spoke to her, as insistent as their rollicking auras. Utterly doubtless, she made her decision.

Apparently, the dragon did as well, as in synchrony they blurted, “Will you make a pact with me?”

They blinked at each other in surprise, then fell into a little fit of laughter a moment later. Boomer sat back on his haunches, throwing his head back, his cachinnation punctuated with electrostatic crackles. Bubbles brought a hand up to her mouth as she giggled, peering up at the blue dragon from under her hood.

He grinned broadly and spoke first. “Not exactly ‘by-the-book’, are we?”

She shook her head and returned his smile. “Not  _ exactly _ , no.”

“If my brothers could see me now…” he rolled his eyes. “Well, Butch would think it was funny. But Brick would have a fit!”

Bubbles giggled again and nodded at his appraisal, imagining the boys’ hypothetical reactions. A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Oh! Speaking of your brothers! They told me I should bring this!”

Boomer watched with interest as the sorceress began digging in a bag she had produced from her cloak. Her face lit up as she seemed to find what she was looking for.

“Here it is! Well, honestly, they had suggested bread, but… I don’t know, I guess something sweet just sounded better?” She held up a little kerchief-wrapped parcel, then carefully unwrapped it, revealing two cookies nestled inside. She offered one to the dragon, who accepted it happily; and who, unbeknownst to her, was delighted when he recognized the bit of fabric she held.

Finishing their treat, she dusted the crumbs from her fingers, then smiled conspiratorially at him. “I won’t tell your brothers if you don’t.”

He smiled and nodded. “My lips are sealed.”

“Then… let’s start again. We’ll try a little more traditionally this time!”

He nodded again, and she took a step closer. Reaching up, she pulled her hood off, then smoothed a couple flyaway wisps of curly blond hair that had escaped their bindings. Once again he found himself transfixed, held in place by a pair of clear blue eyes, the color reminiscent of the sky on a perfect day for flying. She held her hands up, and he eagerly nestled his cheeks within her palms.

“I, Bubbles, a sorceress of the family Utonium, daughter of John, do humbly request of you, Boomer, dragon of lightning, to bind yourself to me in a Dragon’s Pact.”

Lambent sky blue eyes saw his response before he spoke a word; as she said her name, the last piece of the puzzle had clicked into place for him, and his own eyes were already aglow.

“Bubbles, I, Boomer, dragon of lightning, do accept your solemn proposal, and agree to bind your fate to mine in a Dragon’s Pact.”

As he spoke her name so familiarly, she once again felt that stirring inside; a memory awakening as though from an enchanted slumber… a faint dream, slowly coming into focus. A face… a smile… and… those eyes.

“May the light of Bala’ur and Vre’jitor shine on as witness to the union of our spirits,” she continued, eyes closing as she tried to both concentrate on the ceremony and pull at the threads of recollection that were presenting themselves after so long.

“With the blessing of Bala’ur and Vre’jitor, my spirit unites with yours.” He, too, shut his eyes, and brought his forehead down to touch lightly against hers.

_ Bubbles! _ The boy had called after her. She had told him her name…

“My power will be your power, my strength will be your strength,” she murmured, leaning her own forehead against his.

…And he had told her his name…

“Willingly I share my power and strength, with you alone.”

…It was…

She swallowed before she continued, hardly daring to believe.

“Our lives and magic to be forevermore intertwined, I pledge this vow to you… Boomer,” she breathed. Her breath nearly caught in her throat as she uttered his name. Eyes still closed, she felt his clawed hands gently squeeze her arms.

“Our spirits as one, I pledge this vow to you, Bubbles.”

Their auras whirled about them, faster and faster, a marbled mixture of light and dark blues. Radiance cut through the dark of the night, proclaiming the joy of its origins. The entire clearing swam with magic, old and yet new, as the sorceress and dragon sealed their bond.

“ _ Praestigiatrix et Draconis in aeternum _ !”

The light burst skyward. Reminiscent of the previous year, Bubbles found tears forming at the corners of her eyes, but this time for a much preferable reason. She was fascinated to discover that, through their newly formed bond, she could sense her dragon’s shift in form. She opened her eyes and was met with the very face she had been trying to remember for the last year. He beamed at her, and it was as if the floodgates of memory had been ruptured.

“It  _ is _ you!” she gasped. He laughed, trailing his hands up her arms and placing them over her hands, still cradling his cheeks. His fingers encircled hers, then brought their joined hands down between them. “Boomer… you’re the one! The one who helped me find my way!”

“Not before you helped me find mine,” he said softly.

Overhead, Vre’jitor and Bala’ur seemed to wink at the pair of newly joined pact-mates. After a chance meeting under the stars, being reunited, and at last, united, nothing seemed out of their grasp; a world of glorious possibilities awaited.

* * *

A few days’ journey from the Dragon Enclaves, hidden in a partially-obscured cave in the mountains, a man jolted awake from an uneasy slumber. He blinked a few times, sitting up and peering as far as he could out of the cave’s entrance, noting that it was still night. Even through the treeline, he could just make out the glittering stars overhead. The low, rumbling breathing of his “roommate” indicated that the hulking beast was still very much asleep. He sighed quietly, letting himself exhale slowly as he tried to process what had woken him… A dream? No, that wasn’t quite right… More of a premonition. A gut feeling that change was in the air.

He looked to the outside of the cave again.

Somewhere in the world, something had happened.

And it seemed a shift in power… was imminent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first considered the prompt "Things you said under the stars", I really wanted to do a Blues fic. Further consideration led me to dragons. "The Dragon's Pact" was born from the idea for this chapter (as well as their original interaction in the second chapter). As stated previously, my attempts to craft a one-shot immediately spiraled out of control into a multi-chapter. (Hopefully no one has minded! XD ). Anyway... I'm so excited to finally post this chapter! Also, here is the [art](https://numbah34.tumblr.com/post/627851052016877568) for this chapter!  
> Thank you for sticking with me this far! We've got one more chapter to go. If you're enjoying what you've read, **KUDOS** are always appreciated and **COMMENTS** are freaking CHERISHED.  
> Stay well, stay safe, and I'll see you next time!

**Author's Note:**

> When I started thinking about this prompt, I did not know "...But what if the boys were dragons?" was where I would land. I started out thinking I would write something with the Blues in mind, and then... they weren't even in Part 1! At least... not officially. ;) Stay tuned for Part 2!
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and comments if you like! Thank you for reading!


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